The Living War
by storys217ph
Summary: Even in peacetime, life is war.


The war was over for some time now and followed by a time of peace and prosperity never before seen in the seven kingdoms. What remained of the undead armies was kept at bay by John Snow, the King of the north. He was allowed independence under the rule of Queen Daenerys who often sent reinforcements to aid the common cause.

Queen Daenerys however, was not alone in ruling the kingdoms. Still unmarried she had Yara Grayjoy by her side, whom she named Hand of the Queen when they first seized the King's Landing. Their relationship was an open secret which nobody seemed to mind except the defeated nobility of formerly grand houses, but even none of them where bold enough to speak openly against "the Queens" as people cordially referred to them.

It seemed the two would proclaim their relationship public any day now, as people loved their Queens and the security they provided. Everyone would gather at the yearly feast to watch them dance in tune with strumming of the musical assemble. The feast was greater every year, more food and more entertainment lasting longer into the night, but all that was just a charade, much like the power people's representatives truly had in the newly formed "big council". People needed something to believe in, even if it was false, especially then, Tyrion would say along other Queen's advisors. This justifiable lie was the mortar that held the kingdoms together and this frail peace that just started taking roots.

Sitting alone in her chambers Daenerys often yearned to believe her own lies, but she could never get sufficiently drunk to do so. The truth was too bitter and sobering. Despite appearances things weren't right in her world for some time now and with all the power in the world she found herself unable to stop the decay.

"Your Grace…" A muffled voice spoke from behind the door.

The Queen didn't spare a moment. She rushed out of her chambers and down to the new throne room which was much humbler in size and decor. The iron throne was melted down with all the terrible memories it invoked.

While the new seat of power was a lot more comfortable, even all that soft leather padding begun to itch the anxious Queen. Daenerys stood up and paced back and forth while the guards brought in the barely conscious Yara. When they released her form their grip Yara fell down on her hands and knees in the middle of the throne room.

"Again?!" Queen Daenerys raged in disbelief. "Let me guess?! You drank until you couldn't walk straight, then you stumbled over to pass out in the nearest whorehouse! That's where you found her, isn't it?!"

Captain of queen's guard humbly confirmed with a nod.

"You're a disgrace! Both to me and yourself! This is not the behaviour worthy of the Queen's Hand! Are you even listening to me!?" Daenerys rushed over to inspect her face.

"What…?" Yara managed to mumble in her drunken stupor, but then her head fell right back and she continued slobbering down on the bright red carpet.

"Take her to my chambers." The Queen ordered.

A day later Daenerys sneaked back into her own chambers. She thought if Yara woke up to a familiar face and in a room in which they spent so many tender moments…

Suddenly Yara loudly exhaled and shook her head.

Daenerys sat on the edge of the bed and brushed away a loose strand of Yara's hair that fell into her mouth.

With that Yara opened her eyes. It took one look at the Queen and one around the room to gather what transpired. Yara offered no explanation or excuse for her actions. She remained sitting on the edge of the bed facing away from Daenerys and rubbed her forehead attempting to compose herself.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" Daenerys started sympathetically.

"You wouldn't understand." Yara suggested.

"Who else would if not me? But you have to tell me… what's the problem here? Do you realise you can't keep doing this?"

The voice kept ringing in her ears, and though Yara would usually endure the rant or find a way to wiggle out, this time she hadn't the energy for either. "I'm homesick, alright!" She snapped at the Queen.

"You've said that before, and I've told you it's not a problem. Go visit Pyke… visit your brother. Tyrion can take over as my Hand until you return, so take as long as you need, just return to me like the Yara I once knew."

"No, I'm not talking about a home that's any place in the world, I'm talking about the life I once lived! This just isn't for me." With a deep breath Yara took the Hand pin off her chest and placed it on the nearby table.

Daenerys could only respond with a bedazzled stare as Yara walked over to the window and gazed out on the sea.

"I need to go where the wind will take me and take whatever I find there, sing on the sea and feel the sea spray on my face. I've changed too much to be with you… became a part of your plan, but I've lost myself in it. I feel like I'm almost gone, like I'll die here on dry land." Yara clarified turning around to observe the Queen's disapproving expression. "I knew you wouldn't understand!" She spat.

"So you want to pillage again, is that it? You want to raid, steal from the poor and murder the innocent?!"

"Don't act so self-righteous!" Yara retorted. "Your war killed far more people than all the Ironborn raids put together!"

"My war?! Didn't you take part in it, along me and countless others?!"

"I have, and I regret it now."

"How can you say that?! Look what we've accomplished in such a short time! Sacrifices had to be made, but the peace we created will last for ages to come."

"Peace? Tell that to all those buried, or ones without a grave, I'm sure they feel peaceful impaled on a Dothraki blade or scorched on the spot. Sure I raided and robbed, and even let my men rape when it was necessary to raise the morale, but I never killed anyone unless they threatened to kill me first!"

"Well, if that's how you really feel, than leave!" Daenerys flipped. "Just leave!"

"Fine." Yara said calmly.

The sudden calmness didn't come as a surprise, Daenerys knew too well Yara wasn't gonna argue any further after coaxing out exactly what she wanted.

"I just need a day or two to gather a crew, then I'll take my ship and… I guess this is goodbye…" Yara said as if just realizing. She closed in for the last kiss, but when she attempted to cup her chin, Daenerys looked away.

Yara couldn't find words after such a gesture so she left the queen's chambers and rushed down the Red Keep.

Queen Daenerys watched her descend the staircase from her window atop. She watched with boiling rage, and after she knocked over a table and all the wine glasses shattered in thousand pieces against the wall, her rage turned into tears. The Queen was a strong woman, life had made her so, but it could just as easily break her still.

"Your Grace, I heard noise…" The guard barged in.

"I'm fine!" Daenerys snapped still sobbing. "Call the assassins." She ordered.

Soon three dark cloaked figures bowed before the Queen.

"I want you to follow Yara and tell me everything she's doing, or planning to do… and please keep her safe." The Queen had to add with a quivering voice.

"Worry not your Grace. She'll come to no harm as long as we're in her shadow." The gruff voice beneath the mouth mask replied.

When a day later Yara finally gathered her crew and loaded her ship with supplies for the journey, she made her way up the dock where a nasty surprise awaited.

"What is this?!" Yara asked as two rows of queen's guard blocked her crew's way onto the ship. "Move aside!" Too impatient to wait for reply Yara attempted to push trough.

"We can't permit you to leave, Queen's orders!" The armoured guard that pushed her back explained gripping the handle of his sword.

She felt a strong urge to take an axe to his face, but this poor sod wasn't the enemy. Yara turned around to look up the Red Keep, up to the very top window from which a silvery haired woman looked down from. Yara gritted her teeth at the sight and begun to angrily push trough her crew.

"Capt'n?" One of the sailors asked.

"Wait for me here, I'll be right back." Yara ordered.

Visibly furious and out of breath from climbing a thousand steps Yara barged into the throne room storming right up to the Queen. "Why are you doing this?! Am I a prisoner here?!" She yelled out at Daenerys while the guards held her back.

Daenerys couldn't answer, she wasn't sure herself what she wanted to accomplish with this desperate move. She could keep Yara here against her will, but it'd only be a painful sore of what was lost, what apparently never was but in the Queen's own mind. And now all those memories she treasured in there will have to vanish because the duty remains unchanged. All the generations of her blood before her had put Daenerys in this unique spot where she could set the world right for all time.

"If you don't move them off the docks I'll do it myself!" Yara announced after a long puzzling silence and flipped around on her foot to leave, but two guards blocked the exit looking to Queen for further instructions.

"Fine! I'll rather die a free woman!" Yara took the axe off her belt.

"Stop!" The Queen's voice echoed in the chamber before anyone could swing. "Let her leave!" Daenerys ordered simultaneously falling back in her throne as if the sentence took the life out of her.

Over the next months ravens brought back news of Yara. The last rumours said Yara ventured into the undiscovered lands beyond the edges of known nautical maps, and then there where no more rumours. But it didn't really matter where Yara was, nor with whom she was spending her nights with. Daenerys felt her absence regardless and time had only made it worse.

"More wine your Grace?" A servant asked.

"Yes." Queen Daenerys responded still gazing down at her plate.

Life is war… the Queen realized stabbing a fork into her bloody steak. The very act of living is war against anything else alive, and who could say if it all mattered? Whichever gods pulled the strings from up above cared not but to continue this seemingly endless farce.

So the Queen continued to rule with an iron fist and a frozen heart. There was no softness left in it, no mercy, and the system she set up to serve the people slowly begun to oppress them. Before long she earned the title her father held. The Mad Queen, they started calling her in whispers, and far too often rightfully so.

When Tyrion resigned as the Hand of the Queen, he paid the price for his betrayal. He was exiled beyond the wall where each day was a struggle for survival, while the severed heads of the Hands that followed stood on pikes before the Red Keep. They stood as a testament to anyone who would oppose the terrible Targaryen ruler.

The opposition came sooner then expected when the north joined with the rebel south, marching together in overwhelming numbers on the capital. Even greatly outnumbered the Queen still had her powerful beasts to vanquish the traitors, and so the war begun anew.

THE END


End file.
